A Taste of Home Page 14

  I’d found the apples in the freezer and it had been a treat to make the pie using Fenview fruit. I had felt the same surge of pride as when I cooked using the Rossi produce in their Italian kitchen.

  I smiled to myself as I thought of the heady pleasure I would derive from baking Nonna’s highly prized cherry and almond tart using Fenview cherries. What an amalgamation that would be! The delicious taste of home would be doubly delicious then and I willed the harvest to ripen all the faster.

  ‘That,’ said Louise, licking her spoon clean, ‘was another absolutely wonderful meal. Who was it who taught you to cook, Felicity? I don’t think you told us before.’

  ‘It’s Fliss, Mum,’ Bec pointedly said, from her end of the table.

  I don’t know why she still bothered trying to correct her. I was always going to be Felicity to her mum, just as she would always be Rebecca.

  ‘I had the most amazing teacher,’ I told Louise. ‘I honed my skills under the tutelage of the most accomplished cook and wisest woman I’ve ever known.’

  ‘Not your mother then,’ Louise smiled.

  ‘No,’ I said, thinking of Mum’s inability to even cook pasta. ‘Not Mum.’

  ‘You sound very fond of this person,’ said Bec.

  ‘I’m more than fond,’ I told her.

  ‘Well,’ said Eliot, who sounded a little squiffy. ‘I think we should raise a toast to her.’

  ‘I agree,’ I said, raising my glass and accidentally spilling some of its contents. Apparently, I was a little squiffy myself. ‘To Nonna Rossi.’

  ‘To Nonna Rossi,’ they all chorused.

  We drained our glasses and Eliot refilled them. He tried to bypass Bec, but thanks to the impact of the bubbles on his balance, he knocked into her and she scowled up at him, clearly unimpressed. The sight of him looking a little wobbly and her so annoyed made me want to laugh.

  ‘So, Bill,’ said Eliot, flopping heavily back into his chair, once he’d done the rounds. ‘What exactly is it that Fliss has come up with? It certainly seems to have put a spring in your step.’

  ‘I knew it,’ said Bec, sitting forward in her seat, once Grandad had finished giving them the lowdown. ‘When I mentioned Fliss and the farm at the café, Jemma quizzed me for ages.’

  ‘She told me that until you filled her in, she’d assumed Fenview Farm had ceased trading so I suppose we should be thanking you for not keeping my arrival to yourself,’ I smiled at her.

  ‘Well, I never,’ chuckled Louise. ‘I never thought I’d live to see the day when my daughter’s inability to keep a secret would actually do some good.’

  Bec stuck out her tongue and Grandad chuckled.

  ‘Your mum’s right,’ he nodded. ‘But try not to keep making a habit of it, my lovely.’

  ‘I’ll do my best,’ she sheepishly smiled.

  ‘So, are you going ahead?’ asked Eliot.

  ‘Of course,’ said Grandad. ‘Fliss is going to invite Jemma to have a look around and then it should be all systems go.’

  Eliot nodded. ‘That must be a weight off your mind,’ he then said, looking at me.

  ‘Oh, it is,’ I sighed. It was a really good feeling, knowing that within days of my arrival I was already playing a part in helping the farm find its feet again, even if the partnership had been Jemma’s idea. ‘And just in the nick of time too,’ I added, smiling at Grandad and thinking of the concerns he’d mentioned earlier as well as the speedily ripening strawberries.

  ‘Yes,’ said Eliot. ‘You’ll be able to leave knowing this place has a chance again now, won’t you?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I frowned, my gaze snapping back to him. ‘Leave for where?’

  ‘Italy,’ he said, slurring the word a little. ‘Bill said you have an important job on this farm in Puglia. You won’t be giving that up for good, will you?’

  I hoped Grandad hadn’t discussed my life in Italy with Eliot because he was worried about me disappearing like Mum had. With each new day I was feeling more and more connected to the farm, and to Grandad, and I didn’t want him worrying that I was just biding my time. That wasn’t the impression I’d got from him when we talked about it before, but Eliot’s intoxicated comments suggested that could have been on Grandad’s mind, even if they didn’t confirm it.

  ‘Well,’ I said, ‘we still haven’t sorted out the finer details of how things will work out here in the long-term, but I have absolutely no plans to go anywhere at the moment.’

  ‘Good,’ said Eliot, raising his glass. ‘I’m relieved to hear it.’

  I was pleased that he was relieved, but I wasn’t thrilled to think that Grandad might have been worried about me leaving. He didn’t look particularly perturbed, but I’d have to talk to him about it again and the sooner the better.

  ‘I better get these dishes cleared away,’ I said, standing up and hoping the action might prompt the others to go so I could get on with it.

  ‘I’ll give you a hand,’ said Bec, shooting her brother another less than loving look. ‘Ignore Eliot,’ she said, once we were alone in the kitchen. ‘He hardly ever drinks and I don’t think he meant for that comment to come out the way it did. I don’t even think he’s realised how it sounded. He knows full well you’re not going anywhere.’

  It wouldn’t be the first time he’d failed to find the right words where I was concerned, so I supposed I shouldn’t be feeling too put out by it.

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ I said. ‘Because I’m really not, however I am a bit worried now that Grandad might have said something and he’s thinking I might disappear…’

  ‘I don’t think he’s thinking that at all,’ Bec quickly said. ‘I reckon what just happened was more about Eliot than Bill.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Bec looked outside again. Eliot, Louise and Grandad were still sitting under the tree.

  ‘I think he’s got the hots for you Fliss,’ she whispered. ‘And he was trying to sound you out.’

  ‘Sound me out?’ I spluttered.

  ‘Yes,’ she nudged. ‘But not very discreetly, thanks to the champagne. I reckon he wanted to make sure you’re here for the long haul before he declares his…’

  My cheeks blazed and I quickly began noisily scraping the plates.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ I said, cutting her off. ‘He wasn’t about to declare anything.’

  Bec shrugged but didn’t say anything further and I fell to wondering if that was what Eliot’s lowered inhibitions had just exposed. Had the addition of expensive bubbles revealed the fact that he was struggling to keep his feelings for me in check? As thrilling as the thought was, it was unsettling too.

  My life, as well as the day-to-day running of Fenview Farm, was going through a huge transformation and as much as I fancied Eliot, and as hard as I found it not to act on the spark that had ignited between us, I knew I was going to have to try that little bit harder because the last thing I needed, as much as I wanted it, was to throw a love affair into the mix. We had already agreed that we would stick to being friends and, tipsy or stone-cold sober, that was what we both had to commit to.

  Chapter 12

  The celebrations turned rather flat after Eliot’s sozzled suggestion that I would soon be returning to my job in Puglia and, once he had been bundled into the back of the Banana-mobile, Grandad took himself off for a nap.

  Determined not to let my concern that he was worried I was going to leave fester, I resolved to address the situation the moment he got up, however he had other issues he wanted to discuss and we worked through those first.

  ‘I want to talk to you about the farm finances, Fliss,’ he said, seriously. ‘There’s a box file in the dining room sideboard. Would you go and fetch it, please?’

  ‘Isn’t this a private matter, Grandad?’ I asked, as he opened the box and pulled out a pile of papers and bank statements.

  ‘It’s a family matter,’ he told me. ‘And you’re family, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘Of co
urse, the only family, as far as I know.’

  But it still felt like an intrusion, me knowing the state of the farm affairs. That said, I soon set any awkwardness aside, because the financial affairs were in a bit of a state.

  ‘So, to sum up,’ I said, as I looked at the papers spread out on the kitchen table, ‘you own Fenview Farm outright and there’s no mortgage or any other loan secured on it.’

  ‘Correct, and no credit card debts or anything like that either.’

  That was a huge relief.

  ‘But there are a number of outstanding accounts with local businesses and the overdraft is getting near its limit.’

  ‘It is,’ said Grandad, shaking his head. ‘There’s not enough to clear the accounts and live on and the bank manager has been very patient, but I know he won’t extend it further.’

  Grandad sounded mortified. He had explained that the family had never gone in for borrowing in a big way and living off money that didn’t exist didn’t sit well with him.

  ‘My father always told me,’ he said, sounding even more upset, ‘that if you didn’t have the money to buy something outright, then you went without it.’

  ‘That’s a wonderful ethos to live by,’ I said, ‘but times have changed and that’s not always possible, is it? I daresay the farm earned its money differently when your father was alive, didn’t it?’

  ‘That it did,’ he agreed.

  ‘Well,’ I said, shuffling the papers together and sounding more confident than I felt, ‘I’d see this current situation as a minor blip, Grandad. This deal with Jemma couldn’t have come at a better time and it’s going to be a big help. It’s not going to be the answer to everything, but you can go to the bank and tell them that you’ve got a lucrative new contract which will help clear the overdraft and a granddaughter brimming with ideas to pull the finances out of the red and back into the black.’

  Grandad looked rather taken aback. ‘Are you brimming with ideas?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ I said, with a smile. ‘Not really. But they don’t need to know that, do they? And I’m sure I will be soon. Something else will come along, I just know it, and in the meantime, I’m happy to live frugally.’

  My time in Italy had taught me how to appreciate life’s simple pleasures. Home-cooked food, friendship and family were what really mattered and now I had further opportunity to enjoy all three in abundance.

  ‘And I have more than enough saved to clear these other outstanding accounts,’ I added, nodding at the ‘to be paid’ pile.

  Grandad vehemently shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘There has to be another way. In fact, there is something else, Fliss…’

  ‘No,’ I interrupted. ‘I don’t want to hear it. I’m living here now too, and I want to contribute and pay my way. I’d like to help pull Fenview Farm into the future, both by the work I can do and the little financial support I can offer. I’m going to be here for a very long time Grandad. Which,’ I pushed on, ‘brings me on to what Eliot said earlier.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Grandad. ‘I thought that might come up.’

  ‘You aren’t worried that I’m going to disappear like Mum did, are you? I hadn’t realised that you’d talked to Eliot about my life in Italy.’

  ‘Of course, I’m not,’ he said, every bit as forcefully as I had when I made my speech a moment ago. ‘You might be your mother’s daughter, but I know you’d never do that. I know you’re here for a long time, Fliss, and I don’t know what got into Eliot.’

  ‘Too much champagne?’ I suggested, relieved that he hadn’t jumped to the same conclusion as Bec.

  I was going to have to be extra careful when I talked about Eliot around her now. The last thing I needed was for her to work out that the feelings she’d guessed he had for me were reciprocated.

  ‘Well, yes,’ said Grandad, with a small smile. ‘I think that probably was a factor. He doesn’t usually drink.’

  ‘So Bec said.’

  ‘The bubbles definitely went to his head,’ he laughed, then looked thoughtful, as if he was trying to puzzle something out.

  ‘Well,’ I quickly cut in, before he could speculate further, ‘let’s keep a dry house from now on, shall we?’

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ he chuckled.

  As it was getting late, we decided to call it a day. I was pleased to draw a line under the conversation but relieved that I had had the opportunity to say my piece and that Grandad was convinced that I wasn’t going to be rushing back to Italy. I was also pleased that I was going to be able to help Fenview Farm in a bigger way than simply flexing my muscles, even if Grandad was reluctant to let me.

  And with that in mind, he was going to get in touch with the bank and explain how things were changing and as I slipped into sleep, I hoped that Eliot’s imminent hangover would act as a reminder to him that he needed to work as hard to keep the feelings we had for one another under wraps as I was. I had already resolved to embrace life at the farm without a love affair complicating things, and Eliot needed to stick to that plan too.

  * * *

  Andersons were as good as their word and their delivery van rolled into the yard just as I was finishing breakfast early Monday morning. It was another clear bright day and the forecast was looking good for the whole week, which was a blessing.

  The sunshine would enable me to get on with my list of jobs, stop me fretting over Eliot and the fact that I still hadn’t had a reply to my email to Marco. I knew that was most likely because of lack of phone signal at the farm, which meant my account wouldn’t update, but there was a tiny part of me that was worried that he was upset about my decision to stay on at Fenview.

  ‘Where do you want it all, love?’ shouted the chipper Andersons delivery driver as he hopped out.

  I knew it wasn’t the sort of thing that usually raised the heart rate of a woman in her twenties, but what I was looking at was some of my contribution to keeping my family farm on track and, as a result, I felt my roots stretch a little deeper and hold on a little tighter to the Fenland soil beneath my feet.

  ‘In here will be fine, thanks,’ I said, pulling open the barn doors. ‘If you could stack it all at the front, then I can move it as I need it.’

  ‘What’s all this lot then?’ he asked eyeing the tea-chests and boxes as he ferried the things inside.

  ‘I don’t really know,’ I told him, shifting a little to block his view.

  I still hadn’t got around to asking Grandad what the things all amounted to and why they were there, but they must have meant something to someone in my family and consequently I felt protective towards the motley assortment.

  ‘Looks to me like you want a skip, love,’ said the driver. ‘You need to have a good clear-out.’

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I wasn’t his ‘love’, but settled on not tipping him instead.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ I tightly said. ‘One man’s junk and all that.’

  With the chat firmly nipped in the bud and my order stored, I decided the first thing I was going to do was mend the cages. The opportunistic blackbird had been back again and I knew that if he had a nest nearby then his fledglings would be feasting on the farm profits before long.

  Opening the barn might have kicked off my curiosity about the collection again, but there would be plenty of time to ask Grandad about that once the most urgent chores and tasks were ticked off my list.

  And talking of Grandad…

  ‘What on earth are you doing?’ I called, as I lugged the roofing felt and cage mending supplies over to the freshly scrubbed henhouse.

  He was attempting to drag one of the garden chairs across to the wheelbarrow that I was going to use to ferry the other things I needed.

  ‘You’re going to repair the fruit cages, aren’t you?’ he asked, coming to a stop and sounding a little out of breath.

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘I want to come and watch you do it then,’ he puffed. ‘And I’ll need something to sit on by the time I�
�ve walked all that way.’

  It wasn’t all that far, but I was pleased he knew his limits.

  ‘Are you checking up on me?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ he grinned, his eyes sparkling. ‘I’ve only got your word for it that you know what you’re doing, after all.’

  ‘Fine by me,’ I laughed, before walking back to the kitchen for the large umbrella which was propped behind the door.

  ‘It’s not going to rain,’ Grandad tutted.

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘But it’s going to get hot and you don’t want heatstroke, do you?’

  ‘You’d better get some drinks as well then,’ he suggested. ‘We don’t want to dehydrate either.’

  It took a little while to reach the cages. The barrow was heavy and a bit wobbly with the stepladder balanced across it and it was the furthest Grandad had walked since his surgery.

  ‘It’s going to take us longer to get set up, than it will for you to do the job,’ Grandad grumbled, sounding frustrated and fed up. ‘I should have stayed inside.’

  ‘No, you shouldn’t,’ I told him. ‘This is a milestone for me. The first proper job I’ve done on the farm and I love that you’re with me while I do it.’

  He looked happier after that and took up his position in the chair, protected from the sun by the umbrella which featured Moto GP drivers.

  ‘It belongs to Eliot,’ said Grandad.

  ‘Well, I didn’t think it was your style.’

  Was there no part of the farm that Eliot hadn’t infiltrated? I was supposed to be setting my thoughts about him aside while I worked and yet, here he was again. Wherever I turned the leather clad carer popped up. I quickly turned my attention back to the task in hand.

  ‘You’ve done a grand job,’ Grandad proudly said, when I finally finished.

  ‘We’ve done a grand job,’ I amended, standing back to look. ‘You’ve done just as much as me.’

  There had been more holes than I first realised and he’d fixed those that were within reach, while I had mended the highs and lows, so he didn’t have to bend and stretch. The blackbird had been indignantly squawking throughout, but he would have to go and find someone else’s profit to pick his way through because we needed every penny of ours.